


Oblivious

by memorizingthedigitsofpi



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Academy Era, F/M, Fluff, Inspired by Fanart, Jemma Simmons Has No Chill, Kissing, Oblivious Fitz, Studying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-09-15 09:13:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16930494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/memorizingthedigitsofpi/pseuds/memorizingthedigitsofpi
Summary: For a literal genius, Fitz can be really dumb. Especially when it comes to women.inspired bythis fanartby eclecticmuses





	Oblivious

**Author's Note:**

  * For [EclecticMuse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EclecticMuse/gifts).



"Huh. That's weird."

Jemma looked up from her books to see what Fitz was talking about. "What's weird?"

He pointed to his coffee cup. "There's a phone number here where my name should be."

Jemma waited for him to realize what that meant, but he just continued to look confused. Honestly, for a literal genius he could really be absolutely thick sometimes. "It's the barista's number," she pointed out. Then she looked back down at her books. Surely he'd understand it now.   
  
Except no, he didn't. 

"Why would she write her phone number instead of my name?"

Jemma looked up again, this time with an incredulous expression. "You're kidding, aren't you?" she asked, her voice dripping with disbelief. 

"Maybe she gave me the wrong coffee and she made this one for herself for her break?"

All Jemma could do was stare. How could he be this completely daft?

"Fitz?" She tried to keep her voice calm and level. They  _were_ in a library after all. "The barista wrote her phone number on your cup because she wants you to call her." She didn't think she could say it any more simply than that, but Fitz was still looking at her blankly. "For a  _date_. She wants you to call her and ask her for a date."

Fitz's eyebrows shot up and his eyes widened in surprise. "She  _what_?"

He'd blurted it quite loudly, so they were shushed from three different directions. 

"She what?" he repeated, this time in a harsh whisper. 

Jemma sighed and rolled her eyes. "Honestly, Fitz, it's not that cryptic."

"But-"

"But nothing. Either you want to ask her out or you don't, but she's given you an open invitation."

He shook his head quickly, and Jemma hid her smile at how pale he'd gotten at the idea. 

"I don't  _want_ to ask her out." His voice was a horrified whisper now. "But if I don't, then she'll be upset and if she's upset then I'll feel bad, and if I feel bad then I'll ask her out even though I don't want to." He looked like he might actually be sick. "I can never go back there again."

Jemma blinked. She supposed that  _might_ be logical? But it sounded ridiculous to her. Still, she could see that Fitz was upset about the whole 'ordeal.'

"I suppose that means that I'll be getting the drinks from here on," she joked. 

"That'd be brilliant."

Fitz turned back to his books with a pronounced aura of relief leaving Jemma stymied and staring again. That had  _not_ gone the way she'd thought it would. 

They studied on in silence for a while until they completed their problems sets and exchanged homework to check each other for errors. Jemma finished first and watched Fitz as he checked her last few questions. 

"You really didn't know that the barista was flirting with you?" she asked when he looked up.  _She'd_ certainly seen it. The woman hadn't been all that subtle. 

Fitz blushed and shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck self-consciously. "I never know," he admitted. "It never really occurs to me that it's possible, I suppose?"

"You don't think it's possible that a woman might be interested in you?"

That explained  _so much_. 

He scrunched up his face and waggled his head back and forth. "Not exactly?" he hedged. "I suppose it's  _possible_ , it's just that I never  _think_ of it. On the list of reasons why someone does something, being interested in me romantically doesn't make the top ten."

Jemma's mind was whirring with this new information. It put an entirely different spin on their entire relationship. 

"Honestly," Fitz chuckled. "A woman would basically have to smack me in the head for me to realize she was interested in me."

Her hand was swinging before she even realized what she was doing, and then it made contact with the back of Fitz's head and he let out a startled cry that had people shushing them again. Her eyes were wide and her cheeks were pink, and she pressed her lips together as what she'd done sunk in. 

"What was that for?" Fitz hissed, rubbing the back of his head and glaring at her. 

"Oh for-! How bloody dense  _are_ you?"

Planting one hand on the table they shared, Jemma closed her eyes and kissed him. Surely he couldn't misinterpret  _that_. 

As she pulled back, she noted the utterly shocked expression on Fitz's face. With a million butterflies all buzzing around her stomach at once, she licked her lips and then pressed them together as she curled her hair behind her ears. Her cheeks were bright red now, and she wasn't really sure where to look. 

"You just-" Fitz finally moved, pointing one finger toward his mouth.  

"I did," Jemma nodded. Holding her breath, she waited for any further reaction. 

"And you-" He pointed to his head. "Because you-?" He looked at her searchingly. 

"I did," she confirmed again. 

Fitz seemed frozen again. He stared at her for another moment and then finally blinked. A slow smile spread across his face. "Really?"

Jemma felt an answering smile spread across her face as well as she nodded again. 

Neither one of them seemed to know where to look now, so they both looked back at their books. But after a moment, Fitz slid his hand across the table and brushed his little finger against hers. Jemma was smiling so broadly now that her cheeks were starting to hurt. She stroked her pinky back against his and felt the butterflies all group into formation and do a barrel roll in her stomach. 

Leaning over and whispering very quietly indeed, Fitz said, "Me too."


End file.
